


Lorien (The wanderer)

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a  wanderer from Gondor came to the borders of Lothlorien and run across the guard. Can a mortal go into the Golden woods even if he is a friend ?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lorien (The wanderer)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

In Dwimordene, in Lorien  
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,  
Few mortal eyes have seen the light  
That lies there ever, long and bright.  
  
J .R .R.Tolkien "Lord of the Ring"  
  
  
  
I was looking for you many days, many nights,  
To the River of Lorien I came up disarmed,  
To the woods which hide your sweet healing light.  
Way of mine was lit by the merciful stars.  
  
Yes, I'm mortal, I know, but my only fault  
Is a daring desire to look at the land,  
Where the people are fair and the autumn is gold  
Where the sky brightly blue and the mellorns are grand.  
  
Do not aim at me and lay down your bow,  
I'm a tramp, I'm ready to calm in a grave…  
Don't you see it's the habit of none but the Foe -  
'Cause for yearning to deathless He pays in the death.  
  
Am I wrong? Why on earth? Oh, yes , Numenor..  
But I have neither arms nor a ship, I stray.  
I have suffered so much and my feet are sore.  
Do not drive me away! Do not drive me away!


End file.
